


12 Days of Smutty Christmas

by lady_ataralasse



Series: May the Sam be With You [2]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Christmas, Christmas Cookies, Christmas Crack, Christmas Fluff, Christmas Smut, Destiel - Freeform, Established Relationship, F/M, Fluff, Food Play, Frosting, NSFW, Sam winchester is kinky as fuck, Santa Kink, Santa Smut, Smut, almost daddy kink, christmas porn, cookie kink, cookie roll play, frosting play, sam calls reader little elf
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-12-26
Updated: 2014-12-26
Packaged: 2018-03-03 17:12:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,823
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2858567
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lady_ataralasse/pseuds/lady_ataralasse
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Christmas porn in the bunker. You and Sam are decorating cookies . . .</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Decorating Cookies

**Author's Note:**

> This is gonna have more cheese than Wisconsin. I'm not even sorry. Set in the S&B (Shenanigans and Blarney) verse. Some implied Destiel, but the smut is all Sam/reader. 
> 
> Acknowledgements: Thanks as always to Spectaculacular-Sammy for being my sounding board and beta. Her writing is awesome and you should definitely check it out : http://archiveofourown.org/users/spectaculacularsammy/pseuds/spectaculacularsammy

It’s finally Christmas in the bunker. You all decided that you would celebrate Christmas whenever you could all make it to the bunker at the same time in December. Castiel had been the last one out, and he drifted in the night before, much to Dean’s relief.

Now, you’re in the kitchen, working on Christmas cookies,while Dean and Castiel are out finding a tree. Charlie and Kevin are getting food and decorations. Sam stayed behind to help you in the kitchen, but so far you haven't seen him. He said something to the others about being behind on a project.

You're just taking the last tray of gingerbread cookies out to cool when Sam steps into the kitchen, in a tee shirt and plaid boxers, with a Santa hat on his head and another one in his hand. Samcomesup behind you andrunshis nose along your neck. “Mmmm. You smell like cookies.”

Your handjumpswhile you’re taking one of the gingerbread men off the tray, catching his head against the wire cooling rack. “The cookies smell like cookies, you big moose. You made me mess up this one. Now, we have to eat him.”

Sam grins against your skin. “Is that the rule?”

“It is. If you mess one up, you have to eat him.”

“I see. So what if being around you messes me up?” Sam smirks.

“Then, I guess I’ll have to eat you.” You smirk right back.

“I like the sound of that.”

“Surprise, surprise. So, what have you got there in your hands, Santa Sam?”

“Well, I was thinking that since you’re doing _such a great job_ on those cookies, you deserve your very own elf hat.”

You raise an eyebrow as Sam pulls out a green hat that looks suspiciously like the hat he bought for playing Robin Hood that one time. “So, you’re Santa, and I’m your elf in this scenario?”

Sam gently tugs the hat onto your head. “ _Exactly_. You are indeed the brightest of my elves at the North Pole.”

“Aww, Santa.”

“And as Santa, I need to have a hand in supervising _all_ the Christmas preparations. So, what’s the next step?”

“Well, I have to let them cool down, and while I’m doing that, I can mix up the frosting.”

“I’ve never decorated cookies before, generally I just eat them. Think you can show Santa how it’s done?”

“Absolutely.” You turn off the oven, and Sam watches you pull out supplies for frosting.

You show Sam how to fill a pastry bag by putting the bag together: standing it up in a pint glass while you fill it, to keep it steady and folding the top third over the edge of the glass, to keep it clean. You fill the first bag with green frosting, the second with red, and two more with yellow and blue.

Then you lift the edges of one bag, twist it together, and hold it firmly. “Now, the key to piping out the frosting is the pressure. Even pressure means an even line. Watch.” You set out the damaged cookie and give him blue eyes, a red smile, green buttons, arm and leg cuffs, and yellow hair. “They don’t all have to come out just like that. You can mix up the colors or put mini M&Ms in for buttons on top of the frosting. _And_ , when all the frosting is gone, you get to lick the bowl.”

“I see.” Sam has a wicked glint in his eyes. “It still seems pretty complicated. My eyes just aren’t seeing your technique clearly on such a small scale. I think I need you to show me again on a bigger model.” Before your brain can catch up, Sam takes off his shirt and sits down on one of the kitchen stools. “Decorate me.”

You can feel your panties starting to melt at the sight of all that exposed skin. You take a long hard swallow. “Um, sure, Santa, whatever you want.” You pipe a little frosting over Sam’s right wrist and then his left. Then, you put circles of frosting down the middle of his chest and then around his nipples. “And when you finish decorating, you eat it.”

Before Sam can make another comment, you began to lick up the frosting from Sam’s right wrist, then his left, slowly trailing your tongue over his pulse points, then sucking lightly to make sure no sugar’s left behind. Then, you lick at the circles of frosting on his chest the same way you cleaned his wrists: slowly, deliberately, _thoroughly_.

Sam’s eyes are dark, hooded, his mouth slack, heat pouring off his skin as he waits for you to make your next move. His Santa hat flops over the side of his head, the cotton puff at the end brushing against his face. You lock eyes with him before moving to swirl your tongue around Sam’s to his right nipple. His body vibrates, his arm coming up, cupping the back of your head while you lick and suck. When you finish cleaning away the sugar on the puckered skin, you latch onto his left nipple, and Sam's fingers thread under the folded suede of the hat and into your hair, holding you to him. He moans, his back arching towards your mouth, his plaid, flannel boxers tenting out towards you.

Then you pull back. “Do you think you have it down now?”

Sam’s eyes open, and he stands up. “I think so, but I might need to practice a little before I try it on the cookies. I want them to be _just_ _right_.”

“Well, practice makes perfect, Santa.”

Sam sits you on the chair and pulls your shirt and apron off, his eyes catching on your bra. “Well, let’s see, first, I need a blank canvas.” He unhooks the bra, revealing your breasts to his hungry eyes. “Yes, much better. Now, let’s see if I’ve got this right.”

Sam follows your pattern at first, applying frosting to your wrist and down the center of your chest before licking it off, but to your disappointment, he avoids your breasts entirely. You whimper involuntarily, and Sam looks at you, frowning a little.

“Something wrong with the frosting, Santa?”

“This frosting is excellent, but I can think of something better to decorate with.”

“Oh, really?”

“Something _sweeter_.” Sam slides his hands to your hips and pulls your sleep pants and panties to the floor. Then, he locks his eyes with yours and runs his hand up your leg. He slides a finger carefully between your legs. “Perfect. You are _so wet_ for me. Such a good elf.” Sam brings the finger to his mouth and sucks it clean. “Tasty too. Much sweeter than that frosting. Now, back to decorating.”

Sam holds you steady on the chair with his left hand, while his right hand dips back between your legs. After slicking up his finger, Sam holds it up in front of you, so you can see how shiny and wet you are, coating his finger. Then, he spreads your slick carefully over one of your nipples, while you moan so hard that you almost fall off the chair.

“Now, now. Hold still, little elf. Santa has to practice.”

You mumble something affirmative, while Sam dips his finger back between your legs to frost your other nipple with your slick.

Sam leans back to appreciate his handiwork. “Not bad. It’s shiny, which has a nice effect. Let’s see about taste.” Sam leans in, and you wrap your legs around his waist for dear life, while his warm, wet tongue swirls around your nipples, licking, sucking, and nibbling while you squirm and thrash. Your hands are in his long, luscious hair, pulling him closer while he continues to lick and suck, making satisfied, happy noises against your breasts.

“Sam . . . please . . . more.”

Sam pulls back. “You _do_ taste much better than frosting, and it seems to work just about as well. I have one other decorating idea I’d like to try, but first, I need to clean up a little.”

You look at Sam, confused. “Clean up how?”

“Well, I need to lick the bowl of course.”

“Right of cour- _oh_!”

Sam’s face slides between your legs, licking thoroughly at your lips and from your opening to your clit. When your slick is completely replaced by Sam’s saliva, he dips his fingers between your legs to coax out more wetness and then dips his tongue into your opening, mumbling something about not wanting to miss any frosting.

Overwhelmed by the feel of him moving his tongue inside you, warm and slick, your mouth starts forming phrases you never thought would pass your lips: “Yes, Santa! Fuck! _Yes_!”

Then, he licks back up to your clit, sucking lightly, while he curls his fingers inside you until you come.

When your breathing calms, Sam licks your cheek before nuzzling your neck. “You had frosting on your face.”

“Uh huh,” you reply, dazed.


	2. Decorating Cookies Part 2: More Frosting

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sam has another frosting technique to try out with your help . . .

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm pretty sure this is just Christmas porn at this point. . . . If I had a sense of shame I'd be in touch with it right now.  
> Acknowledgements: Thanks as always to Spectaculacular-Sammy for being my sounding board and beta. Her writing is awesome and you should definitely check it out : http://archiveofourown.org/users/spectaculacularsammy/pseuds/spectaculacularsammy

When your brain refocuses, you become aware that Sam is still hard and poking into your leg. “Oh, Sam-Santa, that was an _excellent_ frosting technique. What was the other method you wanted to try?”

“Well, we might want to try this technique out in Santa’s workshop. Sometimes the frosting experimentation process can get a little-”

You cut him off. “Here is fine, Santa. Lock the door.”

Sam locks the door to the kitchen and then walks back to you. “You said the best way to fill a pastry bag with frosting is to put it in a glass for stability.” He slides his boxers to the floor, his erection bouncing free. Sam whips out his smirk again. “Maybe you can help Santa fill his pastry bag with frosting, so we can get to some more decorating.”

You look up at Sam with a crooked smile, wrap your fingers around his cock, testing. “Feels like you’re pretty close, Santa.”

“Well, you’ve made a mess of me.”

“I guess I better eat you up then.”

“Santa would like that very much, little elf.”

The tip of his cock is starting to leak, so you lap up the droplets of pre-come. “Mmm. Santa, I think this will make _delicious_ frosting.”

“I think it will show up pretty well too.”

You have a pretty good idea what he’s planning on decorating when you wrap your mouth around the head of Sam’s cock, sucking lightly, and swirling your tongue, while he moans, “Oh, what a good elf you are . . . that’s _perfect_ . . . such a good elf for Santa.”

You swallow another couple inches of Sam’s cock into your mouth, sucking around the shaft and licking away. Your fingers pump his length, and then you start you convulse your throat around the head, almost choking on his size. Then you pull back, pumping him with one hand, while you roll his balls gently with the other. “Santa, should I get your cookie ready?”

“Yes, little elf. Why don’t you lay back on the table, on my shirt, and I’ll get ready to decorate you.”

You oblige and lay back on the kitchen table, fortunately all the cookie-making has been taking place on a stainless steel island, so you don’t have to worry about anything in the way. Once you’re situated, Sam stands beside you and guides his cock back to your waiting mouth. Your tongue laps around it eagerly, and Sam thrusts shallowly beside the table between your swollen lips.

Sam strokes your hair, encouraging. “That’s it, little elf, just a little more.”

“Mmm. Oh, Santa, you taste so good.”

Sam pumps his shaft, while you continue to suck the tip and the first few inches in between filthy encouragement. “You ready to be a good little cookie for Santa?”

“Oh, yes, Santa. Decorate me.”

“Close your eyes, baby.” With a groan, Sam pulls his cock out of your mouth and directs streams of hot, white come across your chest, neck, and face. When he’s done, he trails a finger through the come and sweat glistening on your body.

You lick your lips clean, but keep your eyes closed. “Well, Santa, what do you think?”

Sam makes an approving sound in his throat. “You look gorgeous, little elf, _absolutely_ , _gorgeous_. Would you mind if Santa took a picture, so you can see his handiwork later?”

You gulp. “Only if you swear it will never be seen by anyone but us.”

Sam growls possessively. “Never, baby. This is all for us. I just want to remember how much I learned from my cookie decorating lesson.”

You hold back your snickers until you hear the click of Sam’s phone. Then, you sense him standing over you again. “Mmm. Baby, you make a delicious-looking cookie. I might just have to eat you again.”

You giggle. “Well, if you must, you must.”

You can imagine Sam’s grin, and then you feel his index finger, wiping come from your face almost as if he were using a straight razor. His finger touches to your bottom lip, and you clean it eagerly with your tongue.

"Such an eager little elf. You want some more frosting, baby?"

"Yes, Santa."

Sam grins and feeds himself to you one fingerful at a time until he cleans your face and neck. Then, you feel Sam's tongue gently cleaning his come from your eyes.

"Aww, Santa. You take such good care of me."

"Mmmm. Thank you for being my test cookie. You taste so good covered with your sweat and my come, baby. I want to you see me though, for what I have in mind next.” Sam finishes cleaning your eyelids, and then he makes his way down to your neck. He licks and sucks the mostly clean skin there.

There’s something territorial and proprietary about the way Sam’s lapping at your skin, nipping and nibbling until it feels like your entire body’s coated in his scent one way or another. By the time he makes it down to your breasts, you’re writhing under his tongue bath. “Please, Santa, I need you.”

“You’ve been such a good little elf, letting Santa practice on you. What can Santa do for you?”

You reach down and take hold of Sam’s cock, which is beyond half-mast, with growing interest “I want Santa to stuff this 'little cookie' full of frosting right-the-fuck- _now_.”

“What a dirty mouth, little elf! I just finished cleaning you up.” Sam chuckles.

“You can put me on the naughty list later, Santa. For now, this elf needs you to finish your cookie.”

“Of course, that’s all part of the job, little elf: eating cookies . . . _bringing joy_.” Sam licks between your legs, tasting you, thrusting two fingers in, and then quickly adding a third. “You ready, little elf?”

“I am preheated and ready to go. Get your frosting in here,” you babble, helping Sam spread your legs.

Sam laughs, losing his game face for a minute, but he pulls himself together when you snake a hand down to start guiding his cock between your legs.

He leans forward and gently slides into you, while you moan, “Go, Santa, go!”

Sam groans as he begins to thrust into you, easier at first and then harder, shifting the table and sending a bag of powdered sugar from a nearby ledge sailing, covering you both in sugar.

“Oh, Santa!”

“Come for me, little elf. Can you come again for Santa like a good little elf?”

You don’t even answer, just arc against his hips, rubbing yourself harder into him, your clit getting the friction it needs to send you over the edge. Sam thrusts a few more times, and you reach down to grab his ass and pull him into you harder, pushing him over the edge.

A little while later, you both start to stir and look around at yourselves and the room. White powdered sugar is everywhere. You and Sam both start laughing hysterically.

“So you’re preheated, huh?” Sam teases.

“Hey, I was trying to go with your shtick with almost no brain blood supply. Give me a break.”

“You’re adorable.”

“So are you, _Santa_.”

“We should clean up the room.”

“Yeah. We should. Hang on a sec.” You take Sam’s phone and call Charlie. “Hey Charlie, are you and Kevin still shopping?”

“Yeah.”

“Add a couple more bags of powdered sugar to the list.”

“Do I even want to know?”

“Probably not this time.”

“You two got it. Just have it all cleaned up when we get back in a few hours.”

“Will do.” You turn to Sam. “Well, we have a few hours before they get back.”

Sam grins. “I just prayed to Castiel to give us a few more hours too, so hopefully that got through.”

“What about the cookies?”

“They’re all dusted with the sugar now. I think they’ll be snowmen.”

“How about we clean up this room and then get a shower?”

“Together?”

“Hell yes. Santa’s not done with you yet.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I made the image myself . . . :)

**Author's Note:**

> Sorry this wasn't up earlier this week or even yesterday, but I was having the best time with family. Maybe more ficlets to come :)


End file.
